


You Sexy Thing

by whereareyoucas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 20:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whereareyoucas/pseuds/whereareyoucas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's basically Dean stripping</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Sexy Thing

"Hey, Dean. It looks like I'm gunna be a couple more hours, the professor's having a hard time translating the scrolls." Sam's voice sounded tired and distorted, coming out of the tinny speakers on Dean's phone.  
"Ok, well I think I'll hit the bar then an-"  
Sam's disbelieving laugh interrupted his brother.  
"No way man, you have to keep going with your research."  
"But-"  
"No."  
Dean closed his phone exasperatedly. Great, he was going to have to hang around this scuzzy motel room for the next few hours researching the lore on some weird Scandinavian spirit type thing alone. He'd already been at it for 3 hours and had found nothing. The instructions on how to kill it were almost definitely on those scrolls Sam had, so Sam basically didn't want to be the only one not having fun on this Friday night.  
The older Winchester shook his head, and grabbed a bottle of beer, contemplating going out despite Sam's orders, when energy crackled through the air.  
Castiel was standing near the door of the motel room.  
"Hello Dean," the angel's gravelly voice sounded through the room. The familiar sight of the angel comforted Dean, making him forget to be moody about Sam.  
"Hey Cas, how'd you find me?" he asked conversationally, almost offering him a beer and then remembering just in time that Cas didn't drink.  
"I asked Bobby," he stated simply, taking a chair opposite the bed Dean was perched on.  
"Why're you here? Not that it's not cool to see you, it's just you're not really the type for social calls."  
"Yes, well. It's not 'not cool' to see you too, Dean, but I have come to ask a favour of you," Cas looked up from his hands, and into Dean's face, his cool blue eyes seemed to be staring directly into Dean's soul. "Where's Sam?"  
"He's out doing research. Why, is it a two man job?"  
"No, that's fine."  
"Ok, shoot."  
A questioning look flickered across Cas' countenance before he realised Dean didn't literally mean shoot; he was learning.  
"I'm looking for an angel artefact. It's a golden sceptre, it's not very important. I don't think it's even in working condition anymore, but times are desperate." Dean looked away guiltily. He and Sam hadn't exactly helped much with the angel war recently. To be fair, they had a lot of stuff going on themselves, but Dean still felt bad, especially after all that Cas had done for him.  
"Ok, well how am I supposed to find it?"  
"You won't. I know it's in a marked box, somewhere in the southern hemisphere, so I'm going to search for it."  
"What? Through the whole southern hemisphere? Isn't that a bit extensive?"  
"Yes. In all honesty, I think this whole search is futile, and I wish I didn't have to do it," Cas murmured, rubbing at his stubble wearily. If it were anyone else he was talking to, he wouldn't have said that, but Cas knew he could tell Dean stuff like this. After all, he was the one he rebelled for in the first place, he was the one that really started his life. He owed a lot to the human.  
"Why do you need my help anyway?" The question snapped Cas' attention back to the task at hand.  
"My vessel is going to be slightly more vulnerable while I'm doing this search. And it's going to take about two hours, to search the whole hemisphere. So I wondered if you could watch over me while I complete the task. I will be semi-aware of my surroundings, but I thought I'd be safer here."  
Dean agreed to help Cas, and his stare immediately went vacant.  
Sighing, Dean flopped down onto the bed, angling his head so he could gaze at the angel. Cas' face was tired and miserable. Dean thought to himself: was this really necessary? Cas had said himself that he thought this was pointless. What Cas really needed was something fun, to forget about the angel war and Raphael for a bit. But alas, Dean had agreed to help him, so help him he would.  
The dusty green cover of a book on Scandinavian lore beckoned him from the bedside table. Just as Dean was about to reach for it, a thought struck him.  
Dean had agreed to help him. And was this stupid search actually helping him? Or would taking Cas' mind off things help him? The man smirked to himself, wondering what kind of things could take the angel’s mind off his stupid mission.  
He sat up, swinging his legs off of the bed. He caught Cas' eyes go over him quickly, then returning to their vacancy. The sudden movement had grabbed Cas' attention but only for a second. He was just making sure there was no immediate danger before continuing the search.  
Taking this into consideration, Dean walked over to the hotel's little radio on the desk and turned it on. AC/DC started pumping out of the speakers, making Dean beam. The radio station was surprisingly good quality, and Dean turned it up as loud as it went, dreamily listening to the familiar guitar riffs of ‘Sin City’. However, when he glanced over at Cas, there wasn't even a flinch. It seemed Cas was immune to loud rock tunes. Well that's understandable, Dean thought, he'd spent enough time in the impala grow accustomed to AC/DC at this volume. It was probably normal to him now, this wasn’t going to distract Cas at all.  
Inspiration struck Dean and a devious smile flitted across his face. He turned over the radio station, wincing slightly as he willingly turned off AC/DC, but he knew what he had to do. The new station was perfect. It was playing Hot Chocolate's ‘I Believe in Miracles’. The music seeped into the room, the sound reverberating off the walls, and the, what could only be described as funky, bass line willed Dean to tap his feet to it. The hunter stepped back from the radio, bobbing his head to the beat, until he was directly in front of Cas.  
The unusual music choice had caught Cas' attention, and his head was tilted to the left as he watched Dean who was now full out dancing to the music. He was swaying his hips from left to right and making slow movements with his arms, ghosting them up and down his torso as he looked straight into Cas' eyes. Years of pranking Sam had paid off, and Dean kept a complete poker face, watching as Cas became fully aware of his surroundings. Although he was completely bewildered, there was a small smile behind Cas' lips. That's what Dean had been aiming for, but his seductive dancing wasn't enough. Cas was going to be harder to crack than he thought.  
The fact that Cas hadn't complained about being disturbed from his search was a good sign, and gave Dean the confidence to go ahead with his efforts to distract Cas.  
His fingers pulled his t-shirt up slightly, exposing his midriff, Cas’ eyes darting to it before going back to Dean’s face a little too quickly. If he didn’t know any better, Dean could’ve sworn Cas had just blushed.  
Finally, he stripped his top off, and swung it round his head in a cliché stripper move. He was calling back on all his memories of female strippers and even the few male strippers he kind of accidentally saw when he’d kind of accidentally found himself at a hen do. That was a crazy night... Pulling his attention back to the present he heard Cas chuckle. _Chuckle_. Cas hardly ever chuckled. Dean beamed in response, flinging the top in Cas direction, it falling over his head. Cas dragged the article of clothing off of his head, dropping it to the floor beside him in a relaxed manner, keeping his eyes fixed on Dean who was smiling at him, thinking how stupid this all was.  
Then, Dean realised just how much attention Cas was paying him. The joke should’ve been over now, and Dean hadn’t planned any further, but Cas looked happy, and Dean was not going to be the one to wipe the smile off his angel’s face. If it was anyone else staring at him like this, he would’ve felt awkward and laughed it off, but this was his Cas, the one who had remade him after hell, the one who’d saved his life countless times. He had promised himself he was going to help Cas by distracting him and giving him a break, and if this was the way to do it, so be it.  
In one quick move, he whipped off his belt, wiggling his hips and doing a half turn, preparing himself for his next move. He swayed to the music for a few beats before undoing his flies and pulling down his trousers in one fluid movement. He jutted his ass out and moved it in what he hoped was a provocative way. He was actually starting to enjoy the dance, as he turned back round to face Cas again, who was now nodding along to the music with him. Dean made another split decision (he seemed to be doing a lot of them tonight), and strutted over to Cas, circling his chair and grasping hold of his tie lightly before going back to his pretend stage in the center of the room. Cas leaned forward in his chair, looking like he wanted to follow Dean.  
The hunter slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, moving his hips from side to side again. He glanced at Cas wondering if this was going too far. The sight that greeted him was very encouraging.  
A hungry expression graced Cas’ face, his hair sticking up at all angles from where Dean’s top had fallen over his head; it was fucking sex hair. His normally loose tie was looser than ever, twisted and rumpled, and he was leaning forward, just wholly looking dishevelled and hot. The angel nodded, as if subtly telling Dean to continue.  
Finally, Dean got up the guts to do it. He slipped the boxers down over his legs and onto the floor, stepping out of them and then straightening back up, displaying himself for the world to see. He bobbed around a bit, experimentally, and then froze as the song stopped playing. The adverts came on and brought Dean back to reality. The smooth vocals of Hot Chocolate appeared to have put Dean into a trance, made him think that stripping for his angel was a good idea. He lowered his eyes and looked down at himself.  
He was standing there, naked apart from his socks, with a hard-on in front of his best friend, an angel of the lord no less, while in the background someone was talking about a furniture sale that was set to end tomorrow. _What the fuck was he thinking?_ But before the hunter could have a panic attack or try to pretend he was drunk, Cas stood up. Dean gulped as he closed in on him.  
Before the hunter knew what was happening, he felt cool lips crash with his, and hands curl around the back of his neck.  
It took a few seconds for Dean to get over the bewilderment and then he started kissing back, realising that he actually, really wanted this.  
Cas broke the kiss for air and smirked at Dean, still gazing at his lips.  
“I’m sorry I don’t have any dollars to give you,” he said apologetically, “can I repay you in sexual favours?”  
Dean didn’t know whether Cas was being sarcastic or if he really thought that he had to repay him for the dance, but he didn’t care at that particular moment.  
“Hell yes,” he murmured before dragging his angel back in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> thankyou for reading!


End file.
